


The Trim

by Secretlyademigodinthetardis



Series: Destiel Ficlets, Etc [17]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel is a Hairdresser, Dean Needs to Use His Words, Holding Hands, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Sam Gets a Haircut, Sam Ships It, fallen!cas, s9 au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 11:52:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1427473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Secretlyademigodinthetardis/pseuds/Secretlyademigodinthetardis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the angels fall, Sam and Dean look for their fallen friend. What they don't expect is to find a fully human Castiel running a hairdressers, and Dean finally has his way with Sam's hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Trim

The bell jingled as the door swung open and hit the wall with a thud. Dean and Sam strode in, taking stock of their unusual surroundings.

"Cas? You in here?" Dean called out uncertainly.

The curtain to the back rustled before being moved aside, and Castiel, former angel of the lord, half ran out, before seeing the pair of hunters and stopping in shock.

"Sam? Dean?" He asked in disbelief.

"Cas? This is what you do now? I mean, I knew you had some…odd tastes, but this is a new one," Sam said as he stepped forward.

Castiel looked down before responding.

"Well, I didn't want to be found by anyone, and this seemed pretty 'incognito'"

 _He even used his fingers for quotation marks,_ Dean noted fondly, before giving himself a mental slap.

"Well, Cas, naming your hairdressing business 'Castiel's' wasn't exactly the right way to stay anonymous."

Yeah. Castiel – once an angel of the lord, the guy who saved Dean from Hell, molotov'd Archangel Michael, dealt with the demon Crowley to open Purgatory, swallowed thousands of souls, became God, then became trapped in Purgatory for a year, defied the orders of Naomi, and unwittingly helped Metatron orchestrate the banishment of all angels from Heaven – now ran a small hairdressing business in Maine.

Castiel blushed.

"So, why are you two here? I was under the impression that I was not someone you would want around, considering what I have done."

Sam and Dean looked at one another. Dean shrugged helplessly, knowing what he wanted to say but not knowing  _how_.

"Cas, of course we want you. You're our family. We know you didn't mean to shut off Heaven, and we forgave you for all the other crap you did because that's what family does."

"But I'm useless. I've lost all my power, Sam, what could you possibly want ME for? I'm a 'baby in a trench coat' now, without the trench coat."

At this, Dean spoke up.

"The hell do you mean, 'what could we want you for?'? It's what Sam said, Cas. You're family. We take care of each other. It doesn't matter if you're stuck without your mojo, we need you.  _I_  need you."

There was a pause as Dean and Cas stared at each other while Sam shifted from one foot to another, before clearing his throat impatiently.

"Oh! Right," Dean smirked. "There is one thing you can do for us, Cas…."

"What, Dean?"

"Fix Sammy's hair."

* * *

Sam sat in the chair, utterly terrified. Scissors, blow dryers, straighteners, and a whole assortment of lethal looking instruments were laid out in a clinical, professional array before him. Cas had reassured him that their sole purpose was 'hair management', but Sam wasn't so sure.

Over in the waiting area, Dean was grinning from ear to ear as he watch Cas flitting around the place, sorting out what he needed before standing behind Sam and looking in the mirror with the hunter.

"Sam?"

"Yeah"

"You're going to have to…."

"What is it, Cas?"

"You're going to have to let me cut it."

* * *

It had been an hour, and Dean was bored. Seriously, did one freaking haircut take this long? He wondered how women managed to fit that crap into their day. Thank God Cas' shop was 'closed' that day. He'd run out of magazines to flick through after less than five minutes, disgusted that the only ones available to peruse were women's gossip magazines.

"Dean?"

He looked up. Cas stood there nervously.

"Is he done?"

"Yes. He was quite…resistant to cutting off most of his hair, so I did what I could."

Dea stood up and made his way over to where Sam had been hidden behind mirrors and towels. He peered round the corner.

"Sammy?"

The younger Winchester looked up, and Dean let out a barely suppressed snort.

"Shut up, jerk"

"Bitch," came the automatic reply, but Dean couldn't help himself at the sight of Sam looking so well-groomed. Sam's well cultivated sideburns remained intact, but were trimmed neatly. His overly long hair was now thinner and more manageable, with a hint of the bangs that had once swept across his forehead before John had died.

"Sammy, you look so….clean"

"Is this okay, Dean? Was this what you had envisioned?" Cas was anxious, looking from Dean to Sam and back. Dean realised that Cas was more worried about what Dean would think than Sam.

_Is my opinion really so important to him? Since when?_

"You did great, Cas. Really well. I can see why you opened up this place."

Cas' face lit up with relief, and it was like watching the sun suddenly appear on a rainy day.

"You think so?"

"Yeah, man! I haven't seen my brother look this good in…well, forever. Mind doing me next?"

Dean thought Cas was going to have a heart attack – from joy or nerves, he wasn't sure.

"Of course, Dean! Just sit in this chair here…."

"And then Cas, I was wondering…."

"Yes, Dean?"

"Come home with us? To the bunker? And not just for a short stay, like….forever? Please? I mean, I get it if you wanna stay here and have this place and all it's just I dunno…doesn't feel right without you being there and I just-"

Dean's rambling was cut off by a slender finger against his mouth. Cas looked down at him, sapphire eyes sparkling.

"Of course I will, Dean. I just wasn't sure if you wanted me there"

Sam, observing their resumed staring, quietly left the shop in search of coffee.

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, due to Dean's lack of care about his appearance and the fact that he had zero mane where Sam had, to not put too fine a point on it, the lion's share, the hunter and ex-angel emerged from the newly-vacated building, holding Cas' sparse belongings and smiling at one another.

Sam, who had returned from his coffee hunt well stocked, leaned against the Impala as they approached, talking quietly to each other, before helping them place the boxes in the trunk. He climbed in the backseat after catching Dean's eye and giving him a firm look that clearly said 'Cas rides shotgun today'.

While he waited for them to climb in, he heard strains of their conversation:

"Cas, you know what I said in there, about family…I meant it. Don't run off again. I dunno what I'd do without you, I just….you mean so much more to me than your angel mojo crap. I don't know how to say shit like this I can't –"

"Dean?"

"What?"

"I know"

And if, on the way back, Sam caught sight of the two in the front seat holding hands, he didn't say a word.

* * *


End file.
